I covered a sheriff's department meeting for work at 8 a.m. and wrote it up, then headed to the middle of the state for a weekend of relaxation. I had a grand vision of spending all of Saturday reading, maybe watching something on TV, and generally having nothing to worry about and nowhere to be. Friday night would be the opening gala for the Celebration of Seagrove Potters.
But first, I wanted to see a bookbinding exhibit at UNC-Greensboro. I called my friend Sims, who lives somewhat near there, after seeing a sign that I always see that said "Sims Pottery." Sims' first name is Margaret, and she hates it. Her middle name is Sims. So I called to see if she wanted to see this exhibit with me and have a cone at the Yum-Yum. Alas, she was at work, but she invited me to see Harry Potter with her on Saturday or have dinner. I squirmed at losing my grand vision of relaxation, but it's not every day that you get to see Philip and Sims (or anyone like them!), so we said we'd talk later.
The bookbinding exhibit was neat, but it was a much smaller deal than I thought it was. It was in a room where people were working, and it was sort of like, "Oh, that, yeah, that's over there." And they were all leather-bound for posterity, not handmade in the way I had expected. I was glad I went. Then I had my child-sized Yum-Yum cone, which was the perfect amount, and got on the road to the storied house on Badin Lake.
Mom had just gotten there and was turning on the water. I helped her unload some slate she'd bought at the slate mine on her way there, and then I swept the leaves off the dock and we talked about law enforcement and how I feel much more tender-hearted toward them and thankful for them than I did before starting at this job. Not that I was like, "cops suck," but I took a rather cynical view before.
We got to Luck's bean cannery for the gala (I love that word), and there were fewer cars in the parking lot, and the music inside was too loud at first. Someone told me later that the parking was freer because they hadn't let potters park there this time, which made me feel better because I was worried there were fewer folks. Mom bought a batter bowl by Vernon Owens and some tiny vases by Michael Mahan and probably some other things. I saw a lot that I liked but nothing I needed, and I was perfectly content to just soak up the beauty. I lined up a jeweler, Jennie Lorette Keats of JLK Jewelry, to make my wedding ring. Now just to nail down every other aspect of my wedding, including the dude....
We came back tired and happy and made tea and slept til 10 the next morning. We listened to Car Talk and Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me, then went for a walk and came back and had frozen pizzas for lunch. I read for a bit and then left to meet Sims and Philip in Asheboro, which was about 40 minutes for me and an hour for them. Clearly we were not as close as we thought. We talked about almost nothing but Harry Potter as they debriefed themselves from the latest film. The restaurant was Sagebrush, which was neat because they served the water in mason jars and gave you a bucket of peanuts as an appetizer. My food wasn't very good, but I was happy to be with them. We walked across the parking lot to the mall and got a dessert at the Books-a-Million cafe, which was surprisingly good. Then we walked around the mall a bit, going in the pet store and the toy store, and said goodnight. A very good time with very good friends.
Sunday broke my expectations in every way, most of it unpleasant. I meant to leave at 9 and got on the road at 10. I wanted to be back in time to have Zaxby's before Disciple because it was having a fundraiser for one of our ministries, but I had to go straight to church. I wanted to spend the afternoon reading there before youth group, but it there was a youth activity I didn't know about and a meeting I didn't know about, so I took part in those instead. Youth group was good and did not mess up my expectations for it. Then I thought we were going to have our not-small-group-anymore-just-hanging-out meeting at someone's house, but they had decided to go out to eat, which I did not have the money for and didn't want to do. So I was very grumpy for the start of that, and I think they could tell, but once I had resigned myself to sitting and watching them eat, I was happy to be with my friends. Until Lyndsay said she's moving to Colorado, but we agreed not to talk about that anymore beyond the basic announcement. 48 hours later, I have not let it sink in, nor do I want to. All I can say just now is, Colorado, you're in for a treat.
When I got home, hoping to sleep in the next morning, I had an email asking me to cover something at 9 a.m., meaning I had to leave the house at 7:30. God was definitely telling me to kiss expectations goodbye. Or it was just a kind of sucky day. Probably a bit of both. But the question is, without expectations, why do anything? And where's the line between healthy expectations that help you plan things, whether it's an evening or a life, and harmful ones that set you up for disappointment? I'm still smarting a little from the relentlessness of that day and trying to process what role expectations should play in life.
The next and final installment in the Weekend Bonanza series is, of course, Thanksgiving! My expectations are already high and fully formed. ;)
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